


You Get One

by Cassicio



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, F/F, Maggie Sawyer Centric, Maggie gets a backstory and it's painful I'm sorry, it's in the beginning and brief but it is there, minor depictions of violence, not really sorry but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassicio/pseuds/Cassicio
Summary: Maggie's given so many chances in the past. She only has one left.





	

Maggie Sawyer was five years old the first time she remembered it happening. If she really thought about it, the memory became crystal clear. A dirty dress, a cuff to the head heavier than to be just reprimanding. Her mother slipping in after her father had left the room, whispering soft words in Spanish. Apologies that, in the end, held no weight. Instead she learned to bear it, to take the blows when they came, -- never too often, never enough for her to think to call it abuse. Not till much later. -- to accept the empty apologies as a barely soothing balm. The smallest possibility that her mother might stand up for her next time. Or the next time. Or the next. At least he never touched her younger siblings. Maybe that was enough. Or maybe she just deserved them. But even so, there were reasons she only stayed in contact with her mother and brother. Reasons she rarely went back to Blue Springs.

 

Her home life wasn’t the only one.

 

She’s thirteen and it isn’t the first time she’s heard the slur. A few parents of kids she’d played with at the park had hissed it as they tugged their children away, never to play with her again. One time someone had shouted it at her father as she went with him to pick up groceries, though asking him what it meant had only resulted in another, if slightly gentler cuff and mutter to never use the word again. Her mother had later explained that it was a bad word, one that ignorant people used for them. Because of their heritage, because they’re different. Yes, she’s heard it more times than she could count on both hands. But this is the first time one of her classmates felt full of himself enough to spit it directly at her. To sneer at her and call her a fucking wetback. Maggie remembers the anger she’d felt, righteous and heated. An anger that made her lunge forward and sink her fist into the older kid’s cheek. It hurt like hell, she hadn’t learned how to punch properly yet, but felt all too satisfying. 

 

That is, until she got hauled to the principal’s office. Until she told the man what happened and still ended up being the one suspended, while the kid who’d hurled the slur at her got an ice pack and not even a smack on the wrist for his actions. Until she got home and was yelled at for over an hour, followed by her mother telling her to ‘be the better person, mija.’ After that, she mostly learned to hold it in. And when she came out, Maggie learned to hold it in against those slurs as well. She’d hoped one day ‘being the better person’ might actually make her  _ actually _ feel better. It never did.

 

* * *

 

At nineteen, Maggie gets her first girlfriend. She’d left her hometown of three hundred and some change in population behind, for the more than eight million of New York City. It was a huge change for the small town girl, but a welcome one. Sure, some people still sneered at the queer, non-white girl, but others welcomed her with open arms. It was a feeling she’d only ever gotten in the tiny gay bar  _ miles  _ from her hometown, which she’d sneak away to on the rare nights she could afford to back then. The fact that she’d gotten into one of the top three best school for Criminal Justice in the United States only added to the euphoria. Maybe she was riding too high and the universe decided she needed another reality check.

 

The first time she walked in on her girlfriend with another woman’s head between her thighs was two months into their relationship. The last time was on their one year anniversary. Maggie knew, she knew she should’ve never allowed it to get that far. That the pleading words leaving her girlfriend’s lips were lies. But she’d fallen so hard, for the first girl to ever openly show her affection and raw want. The first girl to kiss her and not care who might see, to hold her hands and flip off the guys that catcalled them. So Maggie took it, she took the lies and pleading and cheating until she absolutely couldn’t anymore. And then they fought. Then her, now ex, girlfriend didn’t plead, she  _ screamed. _ All of Maggie’s faults pouring from the girl’s mouth, not caring how deep they cut. All the reasons those women were better, the reason she’d fallen into bed with them instead of Maggie. Every insecurity Maggie could think of having in a relationship was picked over, until she couldn’t take it anymore. With a handful of her own clothes, the microbiology book for her minor and the last shreds of dignity she could gather up, the girl turned and left the apartment. She didn’t see her former girlfriend again after that. It took another three years for Maggie to even attempt anything more than the casual one night stand. 

 

* * *

 

At twenty-two, she graduated top of her class and jumped straight into the NYPD Police Academy. The work was hard and the new trainee was looked down on by peers and trainers alike, but she was determined and stubborn. No one walked over her, she gave as good as she got. This was her career on the line and Maggie Sawyer would be damned if she lost out on it because of a handful of cocky, white guys that continuously underestimated her. This drive lasted her as far as two weeks into her transfer to the Gotham Police Department after graduation.

 

The move wasn’t far, but the gritty, dark atmosphere of Gotham definitely made Maggie feel like she’d ended up a thousand miles from the brightness of New York City. It was a move that Maggie hoped would help her reach detective status, the end goal she had in her life right now. The academy advisor (of sorts) may have been skeptical about offering up information, but she did state that, “the quickest way to do what you want, is to go to the city where you’ll see more in a month than a lot of cops get in a year. Gotham.” The woman wasn’t wrong. Maggie saw more bodies, violence, robberies and hostage situations than she thought could be performed in a month. It was eye opening and ground away the shine of the police work ideal. Thinking you can save everyone, do everything. It didn’t help that Gotham’s vigilantes took it upon themselves to interject in many of the cases. But, if she had to guess, she never would’ve met Kate Kane if they stayed away.

 

Maggie was twenty-four when she reached detective status and about eight months into her relationship -- if it could be called that when nothing was official -- with one of Gotham’s most wealthy and notorious female socialites, also known as Batwoman. The youngest detective that the precinct had seen in a long time, that’s what Commissioner Gordon had told her, explaining that it might be a good idea if she kept her head ducked for a little bit while everyone got used to it. Better that than ending up on the wrong side of a pistol. That warning burrowed its way into the newly minted detective. Sure, everyone knew there was corruption all over Gotham, but the fact that they were doing nothing at this point? Or seemed to be doing nothing at least. It didn’t sit right.

 

Kate and Maggie were officially together for two and a half years when Maggie made the breakthrough that got her shot five blocks from GCPD. The detective was much more cautious, this time around, when things started getting serious, but they fell into a routine that was comfortable and loving. The only hitch was her girlfriend’s tendency to take matters into her own hands when it came to Maggie’s cases, as if the vigilante thought Maggie would be unable to handle it on her own. That had led to more than a few fights. That’s what she expected would be the argument, when she woke up to the too bright white walls of a hospital and her girlfriend staring at her from the chair in the corner. Maggie wasn’t wrong. Even the throbbing pain in her leg and torso wouldn’t stop her giving as good as she got in the argument of vigilante versus cop.

 

“This is police corruption, Maggie. Did you expect them to just let you turn on your own ranks? This is why I told you to let me and the Bat handle it.”

 

“I’m a detective, part of my  _ job _ is to root out the killers in this city. Just because they’re fellow boys in blue doesn’t put them outside of my jurisdiction. It’s a lot harder to book a guy and keep him booked when he’s had half his teeth knocked out by a  _ vigilante _ rather than properly arrested with all evidence and by the book rules.”

 

“I knew it. I knew I never should’ve gotten involved with a stubborn, righteous cop. This was such a mistake.”

 

“You calling me a mistake, Kate?”

 

The pause made Maggie swallow hard, not expecting her girlfriend to actually be thinking about the question. Even in the heat of the moment, she’d asked it more out of an attempt to go back to banter rather than anything else.

 

“You know, Sawyer? I think you might be.”

 

Before she could ask more about what Kate meant, Maggie’s police captain had stepped into the room, a piece of paper in his hands. Mandatory transfer. It seemed even the Commissioner had thought it best to get Maggie out rather than let her do any more detective work in their city. He was probably just looking out for her, keeping her away from more back alley shootings, but that didn’t soften the sting of dual rejection. 

 

When she finally got released from the hospital, Maggie was greeted with a box of her things that had ended up in Kate’s possession over the years, just inside the door of her apartment. The apartment itself was equally cleaned out of her girlfriend’s things. A mistake, that’s what she was, what this had been. Not the time in Gotham itself. She’d grown and toughed even more than she had as a lesbian, non-white teen in a town of less than four hundred people. It was a learning experience that she was grateful for, even if it nearly cost the detective her life. But the relationship… Well Kate had made it clear about that.

 

* * *

 

National City was a massive change, not the least because as soon as Maggie stepped off the plane she was shown sunlight like she hadn’t seen in a few years. The warmth was soothing in its own way, temporarily. This was a chance to start over yet again. No vigilantes. Nothing as corrupt as Gotham. Not that anything could  _ be _ as corrupt as Gotham City, with a precinct that sent a detective who dug into that corruption all the way to the opposite side of the country. Stepping out of the airport, Maggie pushed away thoughts of the other city. This was her fresh start. A new precinct, experimental department to take part in, new city to learn. That’s what mattered. That night a Roltikkon woman Maggie met -- at the first gay bar she wandered into -- showed her another bar. It was a back alley bar and, as she took a look around, she could see why. The funny thing though? For the first time since her first year in New York City, Maggie felt a sense of comfort.

 

The NCPD Science Division detective was barely a few weeks into being twenty-eight years old when she got called to the site of an alien attack on the President of the United States. She’d settled into the city pretty well in the last four months, learning about the alien population there and the sapphic population as well. Being half married to work and serial dating didn’t exactly leave the detective with many real connections to other people in the city, but she’d learned to keep her distance anyway. So it came as a surprise to the woman, that she clicked so easily with the DEO agent she’d bashed personalities with at first. Alex definitely stood out from other people she knew. They worked in similar ways and, after the initial introduction to the bar, relaxed in a similar manner as well. The agent hadn’t even batted much of an eye at the fact that Maggie was gay or that she’d dated aliens. Alex was even there for her the day after she’d gotten broken up with again. 

 

Honestly, Maggie wasn’t even sure why she bothered trying for anything serious anymore. It had become more clear with every break up in her life, that she was either a horrible girlfriend or had horrible judgement. Since she was still a high ranking detective with excellent judgement skills there, the woman was fairly sure that the former option was the truthful one. Still, it stung to have all her faults laid out again, so similar to her first girlfriend. Apparently she hadn’t changed much. Hard-headed, insensitive, obsessed with work and borderline sociopathic. The last one was new, but her now ex was a psychologist, so it made some sense. Alex’s disbelief at the fact that  _ Maggie _ was the one being dumped was almost sweet, but not enough to make the woman not want to lose her cool, as she’d told the agent. After all, once again Maggie had thought maybe this one would be… different. Yet, as has been the case every time now, she was wrong. Meaning harder liquor, a broken glass and a few rounds with the heavy bag she’d had in every apartment since she moved out of the dorms.

 

Alex was still there the next day, surprisingly. Offering support and checking in, attentive and… oh, there came the one thought Maggie hadn’t considered. Sure they’d kind of seemed to flirt a little, but Alex was straight. Until Maggie really thought about it. Until she said something and the flash of instant denial showed in the other woman’s eyes, mixed with just a little confusion and uncertainty. Maggie had been there before. She knew that look, given that look, seen it on the faces of quite a few women new to considering the idea that they might not be so straight. It didn’t hit Maggie till later, when she was drinking to forget a series of dead bodies dropping at her feet, that she’d made an unconscious demand of herself in the moment she saw that look. Maggie was going to help Alex, if that’s what Alex wanted, because coming out alone and with no one to back you sucked. It really did. The brunette, of all people, deserved much better than that. And then Alex is in front of her, saying that maybe, just maybe Maggie was right. Yes, the detective is definitely going to stand by Alex through this.

 

The kiss was more than she’d expected, however. Of course Maggie had seen the signs of a burgeoning crush on Alex’s end, but she’d kept a tight cap on her own developing feelings, not wanting to lead Alex on. It was far better to keep things friendly than for them to try something and Alex finding out what all her exes did, that Maggie wasn’t worth it. She would take friendship only over losing Alex entirely every time and that’s what she tried to tell the woman. The look on Alex’s face as she turned away and walked out told Maggie she probably fucked that up as well. The silence was even more telling and then there was the parking garage. The agent spilling words like Maggie had somehow been the one to hang the moon in the sky just for Alex with the simple descriptor ‘ _ amazing _ ’, only to snatch it away again in just as quick a breath as it took to be seen. Or kiss and pull away rather. And no, Maggie didn’t owe Alex a relationship, but she could understand the disappointment. If only she didn’t know it would be secondary to how Alex would be disappointed by a relationship.

 

* * *

 

Maggie is two months past twenty-eight years old when she has her heart broken a second time by something entirely outside her romantic life. The crunch of broken glass under her boots seems to echo in the empty space as she surveys the bar. Bodies are scattered everywhere, like a massacre. She recognizes almost all of them, knows families she will have to contact. Darla was among the victims. She’d been the only one of Maggie’s exes to try and inflict as little damage as possible when they broke up. The glassy eyes that stared up at her held none of the amused spark they always had when the Roltikkon waitress was alive. A few silent tears slid down the woman’s cheeks as she stood in the middle of her safespace, the safespace for so many outsiders, that had now been raided and destroyed. The sound of at least four vehicles pulling up in the alley had Maggie roughly scrubbing the tears off her cheeks. She knew that only one group of people could’ve gotten wind of this so quickly.

 

“Freeze! Hands where I can see them.”

 

And there it was. Maggie put her hands up and turned around, watching Alex with tired eyes. “Not as fancy firepower this time around, I see.” Her voice was low and gravelly with emotion, but at least there was no crack as she attempted to inject her normal sarcasm into the situation. It fell flat, but she couldn’t really find it in herself to care. As long as she was kept in the loop about the murderers who had done this to her bar companions, she would probably stay numb instead of angry for awhile. “Looks like this is out of my jurisdiction again, right?” She spoke again, when it became obvious Alex wasn’t going to.

 

“Maggie, I-”

 

“Don’t, Alex.” The ‘please’ was kept in her eyes instead of her voice, a plea meant for Alex alone. “There’s a device stuck under the bar top. I have,” she swept her eyes around the room, taking in each face. “I’ve got eighteen families to inform and six other rites to see if I can start arranging myself. Just… Should I tell them to come to our coroner or what?”

 

“We’ll have them brought to the NCPD.”

 

Nodding, Maggie moved to each body. She closed their eyes, stumbled her way through the few rites she knew in languages her tongue could barely shape and whispered her own quiet farewells. That done she stood again, not daring to see if the worry was still there in Alex’s eyes as she started to walk towards the door, glass crunching once more.

 

“Let me know when you find them.” The words were quiet as she walked past the agent, the quick nod she received being all she needed in answer. They would catch these bastards. Whatever was still sparking between them, it didn’t change how well they functioned together while working. CADMUS would see that soon enough.

  
  


There is a point where fear and self deprecation aren’t good enough excuses. When feelings override even self preservation. Even what appears to be good judgement. For Maggie, it started with a laser to the shoulder and ended with Alex admitting she’d realized coming out should and was for herself, not for Maggie. Maybe she was too drugged on painkillers to react in the moment, maybe she needed to catch the woman who was responsible for killing all her friends in that bar first, but the feeling of warmth and need never left Maggie from the minute she told Alex, “anytime.” And alright, she hasn’t gotten more than a couple hours of sleep in the last three days. She could’ve waited until she at least got some rest and more time to think. But honestly, Maggie is running on adrenaline now and she’s tired of waiting. Of holding herself back. Yes, she’s terrified of everything this could lead to, but Alex is different. She’s different in ways Maggie couldn’t explain if she tried and in other ways she could talk about for hours on end.

 

So Maggie Sawyer shows up at Alex’s door with pizza and beer, nervous but determined. She paces and explains, part of her screaming at herself that she’s setting herself up for a fall, but for once she feels better shutting that voice up. And then she’s kissing Alex, carefully, slowly. Waiting to see what happens, which is Alex kissing her back, grabbing her arms and keeping her close. Saying Maggie likes her, that’s what she got and drawing a tender grin across Maggie’s lips. Because yes, of course Maggie likes Alex. She likes her so much, almost too much. Which is just scary enough for her to ask whether Alex is going to go crazy on her, jokingly but with a need to know. She’s expecting a denial, but honestly the quiet ‘probably’ is more reassuring than a promise it won’t happen. And then Alex is kissing her again and that’s all that matters.

 

* * *

Waking up in Alex Danvers’ bed two weeks later was quite possibly one of the best things Maggie had ever experienced, and not just because the bed was one of the single most comfortable things Maggie had ever slept on before. No, the best part was probably the fact that Alex was in her arms, peaceful looking as she continued to sleep, a smile on her face. It made Maggie’s own lips curl upwards at the corners. She could get used to this. It was different. Where in other relationships she’d stumbled into their beds before feelings were even a matter on the table, with Alex it was a building  _ friendship _ before feelings developed. Perhaps that changed things. Certainly how ecstatic Alex was with every new little thing she experienced with Maggie was new. The wonder when Maggie took her on dates, when they kissed, even the first time Maggie had brought her girlfriend coffee and lunch at work. Simple things that had the other woman smiling giddily and rambling in the most adorable manner. Though later that morning particularly took the cake, as it were. 

 

She really hated having to get out of bed, but a glance at the clock on Alex’s nightstand told her they needed to get ready for work. Carefully waking the girl in her arms with soft words and gentle kisses, Maggie directed the woman towards her own bathroom, before getting out of bed herself and looking around for something to wear. Her own shirt was somewhere back in the living room section of the open apartment, so Maggie instead grabbed the first piece of clothing at the top of the clean laundry basket in the corner. Alex’s reaction to her being in the shirt was even better than the fact that she was surrounded by her girlfriend’s scent. It had words slipping out that she hadn’t used to describe a relationship she’d been in, in quite a quite a while.

 

“It’s called being happy. Get used to it, Danvers.” She definitely didn’t mind allowing herself the chance to get used to it as well. Maybe she should’ve found that more worrying than comforting, after all, this is the kind of thing that usually came before she was given a reality check. Still, calling in sick and spending the morning with her girlfriend sounded exactly like a kind of happiness she  _ could _ get used to.

 

The first few texts after an abrupt lack of reply didn’t worry Maggie, Alex was probably busy. The next few had her checking in to see if they’d received word at the NCPD about any incidents involving Supergirl or anything else alien. Getting a head shake from their dispatchers, she decided to call. Once, then again an hour later. The complete lack of response had anxiety prickling at the back of Maggie’s neck. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to check on her girlfriend and set her mind at ease, she decided to take her lunch break early. The irony in that figure of speech wasn’t lost on her when she walked out of the DEO thirty minutes later. It did hurt, very much so.

 

The strain in Alex’s voice had Maggie tensing up, worried for her girlfriend. Knowing as soon as ‘Supergirl is missing’ was spoken, that she must be going out of her mind. Really the glasses did nothing for hiding the fact that Alex’s sister, Kara Danvers, was obviously the woman in blue and red. That fact didn’t stop the drop in her stomach as soon as the words “this was a mistake” left Alex’s lips. The familiarity of those words, flashing her back to a hospital bed in Gotham City briefly, had Maggie swallowing hard and stepping back. She should’ve known better than to take that happy morning without a grain of salt, something to prepare herself. It never lasted. But breaking up, she was used to that. She’d learned never to break in front of them, not after the first time. Instead she offered a press of lips, a knowing, pained smile. Accepted the words with a “got it” and a “see you, Danvers” because what else could she do? Once again she was the mistake, there’s no getting around that. Bowing out gracefully was the one comfort to herself that she could give. The one comfort to Alex too, who obviously had far more important things to concentrate on than Maggie’s tattered heart.

 

* * *

 

Calling into work for the second time that day was surprisingly easier to do than Maggie thought it would be. Then again, in her near full year mark at the NCPD, she had yet to call in before that day. Things had been quiet too, obviously with the DEO not wanting word about Supergirl’s disappearance getting out they’d put no request for help out to the precinct. So now Maggie was free to spend the rest of the day beating herself up for letting her guard down one more time. One  _ last _ time. She was tired of being the mistake. Being the problem. Why keep trying when she knew the outcome? It was time to work the last of the pain and grief out of her system, build her walls back up and keep them there. 

 

This time the entire whiskey bottle was in smashed pieces across the floor of her kitchen, while both the heavy bag and her knuckles had split open with the force of her blows against it. She didn’t really care about the sand falling as the tear grew with subsequent punches and kicks. In fact, the only thing that snapped her out of it was her music cutting out as the bluetooth speaker rang out her text tone instead, four times. The possibility of it being work was the only reason she checked, at least that’s what she told herself. Seeing Alex’s name instead had Maggie considering putting the phone back right then and there, ignoring it and going back to her work out.

 

She clicked on the messages anyway. The request for Maggie to come over, the request to apologize in person, to explain. Hoping to talk. She almost chucked the device against the wall, because, in that instance, all she wanted to do was tell Alex that she’d be there soon. If there’s one thing Maggie’s first girlfriend taught her, it’s that she couldn’t keep crawling back to a person who hurt her and never intended to change. If Kate showed her anything, it was that mistakes were meant to be cut off immediately. And her last girlfriend? Well she made it obvious that Maggie had too many issues to make her worth trying for.

Another text came through as she was thinking. ‘ _ I understand if I’ve ruined things. I’m sorry. _ ’

 

Maggie swallowed. She sighed. Alex was different, but did that matter? Would it make a difference in the long run? Was Maggie going to be able to take it if this happened again or would she finally shatter?

 

‘ _ I’ll be there in an hour _ ’

 

* * *

 

A small hiss is drawn from her lips as she knocks at Alex’s door. She’d showered, then washed and re-wrapped the knuckles of her right hand with proper bandages before making her way over, but the sting was still there. It was a good sting though, grounding. She’d need to stay grounded to make it through this. Especially when the door opened and, for the briefest moment, she lost herself a little in Alex’s sad, hopeful eyes. She couldn’t just let that happen. Not again. So she braced herself and took a breath, replying to Alex’s ‘thank you for coming’ with honesty.

 

“I almost didn’t. I just… I don’t- I don’t think you’re ready for this.” Which was admittedly also true. The first sign of danger had sent Alex running, if she did it in another relationship (a better one), well Alex could really lose out. As much as Maggie had.

 

“No. Nonono. I am. I am. Hey. I’m- I just- I just kinda went crazy.” Crazy. Maggie had asked her about that and Alex had been honest. Still, she couldn’t let that be enough. “I just- I- I- I feel like the- the universe is just magically smacking me down from being happy.” As much as Maggie could understand that sentiment, had seemingly lived through it most of her life, she had to sigh.

 

“That’s it? You gotta give me more than that.” She can’t just go crawling back, she won’t. Not again.

 

“I have always felt so responsible, like weight of the world responsible…” Maggie’s eyes searched Alex’s face as she opened up, explained, gave Maggie a glimpse into Alex’s life that she hadn’t gotten before. It was familiar sounding in a way, especially when Alex spoke to anything done for herself going badly. Maggie could empathize on a very deep level with that. She could empathize because she’d felt it that afternoon too, when Alex’s words had seared into her. The detective had to wonder if Alex knew that’s what it felt like for her girlfriend. Like another thing going wrong.

 

In the moment though, she would let it slide, because the  _ reason _ Alex was upset was something she understood. Because if her little brother had disappeared, Maggie would’ve been a mess and really she couldn’t keep it a secret that she knew any longer because Alex need to know Maggie understood that part.

 

“Because Supergirl is your sister.”

 

The surprise, suspicion and immediate questioning that followed her statement forced a smile onto Maggie’s lips, even if she wanted to stay stern. Because really.

 

“Come on. Look, I- I know you.” And she did, if these couple of months of friendship, weeks of relationship, had taught her anything. It was about Alex and she’d studied and remembered all she could in that time. “The only person you get that torn up over is Kara. Plus the glasses don’t help.”

 

Alex’s agreement drew another smile, a soft laugh. It really was so different with her, she struggled to stay mad. Especially when the woman in front of her continued and said she was glad Maggie knew. That she didn’t want secrets between them. In that moment all Maggie wanted to do was say okay, was forgive Alex and move on. But she swallowed and hesitated. Because this didn’t fix everything. Because what if it happened again? 

 

“Bad stuff happens. In our line of work it happens all the time. How do I know you’re not going to run next time it does?”

 

The answer is an immediate “I won’t” and Maggie want to believe it’s true without hesitation. She really does. This is a chance, a chance at repairing things, not just slapping a bandaid over the wound or ignoring it completely as she’d done in the past. Still, Maggie’s not sure she can believe it at a word and Alex must see that in her face because she continues quickly.

 

“I’m sorry. I jus- I just- I wanna be happy.” And in that split second Maggie has to look away, because the words that immediately rise up are ones to admit Alex should look elsewhere if that’s true. The self-deprecating line that’s been beaten into her brain by past experience. Happiness should be found anywhere else. A thought interrupted abruptly by two more words that fall from Alex’s lips. “ _ With you _ .” It makes the breath catch in Maggie’s throat and her eyes have to meet Alex’s again. For the first time she believed those words weren’t hollow. That the person in front of her wanted  _ her _ and not just a girlfriend, not something better. 

 

Yet the word ‘mistake’ crept back up and the smile that had twitched at Alex’s words faded. Because for once, self worth decided to kick in. Because if Alex saw that much in her, she needed to see at least something in her self.

 

“You get one, Alex.”

 

Not one mistake or misstep. But one chance to break her. This one opportunity to have left Maggie broken and asked for her back. Because honestly, if it happens again, she’s not sure there’ll be any pieces big enough to put back together again.

 

But Alex is telling her she understood and there’s a hope in her face that has Maggie breathing out a little of the tension into the hug they share.

 

She’s given too many chances in the past, has lived through a lot of pain. But this one? This one feels worth giving.

**Author's Note:**

> ALRIGHT, this took me a bit, but after Monday I've been shook. And that generally results in pain. SO, you got Maggie Backstory pain because if the Writers won't give us it, I'll make up my own.
> 
> Comments and Kudos always loved and welcomed. Thank you for reading.


End file.
